A Change of Heart
by JustMadman
Summary: I never hated the fact that my girlfriend was a saint, while I was the one practically killing people on the streets to earn a living. But the one time I got mad at her for what she did, I never got to apologise, thank her, nor tell her one last time that I love her.


A Change of Heart

I gasp for breath. I watched as Hans panicked. I wanted to laugh as I watched him dash out of the room and call a doctor. My brother. My career-driven-to-the-point-nothing-but-his-career-matters older brother. My prodigy of a brother who he himself is a surgeon. I wanted to laugh so badly, I wanted to cry, I wanted to smile, now knowing how much I actually mattered to him. To see him worry so much about me. But I couldn't.

I should save my energy. I let my hands fall to the side of the bed. I should slow down my breathing so that I would feel less pain. I should close my eyes, maybe sleeping helps. Sleep forgets everything.

"The pulmonary artery pressures don't match, her heart rate are abnormal!"

"She's losing blood of course it's too high and she's having a panic attack of course they're abnormal!"

"We're just going to have to risk it!"

"Has the boy given the go yet?!"

"Yes!"

"Stay with me, Anna, stay with me. Breathe, just try to breathe. Slowly. Don't give up on me."

I don't know whether or not my breathing slowed, I was too tired to feel anything. It was really noisy when I finally fell asleep, I didn't even know how I managed to do it. Maybe I was too tired and in too much pain to care. It didn't matter, I didn't care, I just wanted to rest.

* * *

><p>My car screeched in protest as I slid across the road. Or was it into the other street? I saw a woman outside this bakery screaming and tried to smile to tell her I'm okay and to call for help. I think many people did, I heard so many screaming and shouting, they should be calling for help, right? I tried to open the door, but I couldn't. It was only then I realised I couldn't move from my seat. My hand was jammed between my seat and the side of the car. How did my hand even get there? And my other was cut by the glasses of my windscreen. What luck.<p>

I could smell the ashes of burnt paper, toxic smell of burnt metal and smoke. Lots of smoke. Wait, is it my car on fire? But I didn't feel any heat.

No, it was the other driver… stupid driver…

Speaking of stupid, is help going to come soon? I feel… sleepy… Is this how I die?

I laugh to myself, it's funny I'm dying now. Who would've thought of that? Why isn't my life flashing before me? Why do I feel nothing but fatigue? I force myself to stay awake. I had to stay awake.

Maybe I should sleep. Maybe I'll wake up in hospital like in those TV shows Anna made me watch. Oh, maybe I'll see Anna there… and maybe then I could apologise to her…. Yes, I should sleep. I can hear the ambulance coming now, it shouldn't take long then.

"I'm sorry, Anna." I whispered.

I woke up with as soon as those words left my mouth.

"Elsa?"

I looked up to see the white ceilings I had become so bored of since day one. Shit, a nightmare. A nightmare of Elsa.

Hans woke up with a jump. I smiled to myself, he had always been a light sleeper. Always scolding me for waking him up in the middle of the nights when all I did was walk past his room to get milk in the kitchen. I swear it's not my fault mom gave me the room further from the kitchen. Puffs of smoke covers his smile from my view and I frown. Since when was there this ventilator over my face?

"Anna, are you alright?" He asked eagerly. "Are you feeling any pain? Any breathing difficulty? Any chest pains? Can you move?"

I was about to speak when he held up a finger, "Wait, I shouldn't be asking you these, I'm going to call a doctor. Just wait a minute here, don't move." I rolled my eyes. There _was_ a reason why I was in a hospital bed, you know…

I tried to lift myself up to face Hans properly but a huge warm hand was quickly pressed against my chest, stopping me from moving. Or did I not have the least bit energy to resist? He was barely touching me. I quickly recognised the person before me. Kristoff Bjorgman, the family doctor. Hans stood by the door watching him worriedly. He played with his gloves and bit his lips. He almost never did that. Only during his exam periods.

"Whoa whoa whoa, don't get up yet. We need you to stay down for a day or two more okay?" Kristoff said. He raised my bed and pulled the railings down before sitting on it.

"What happened?" I asked. It was only then that I realised how thirsty I was. My voice was hoarse. I coughed in attempt to swallow whatever little saliva there was in my throat.

"You had a panic attack, and it so happened we found you a donor." He said with a smile that didn't reach his eyes.

I turned to Hans, weakly and raised an eyebrow. Gotta save as much energy as possible, Jesus, what has my body been through?

He gave a shocked look asking 'what?'.

I… didn't know what to say. What was I to say? Someone just died on my behalf. Someone just gave me their life. How was I to ever thank them for that?

"Thank god the donor was compatible." Kristoff dropped his hand onto my head and ruffled my already messy hair.

He put on his stethoscope and before he lifted my shirt up slightly, he turned to Hans and gave a look he immediately understood.

"Now could you breathe in for me?" And I did. "Now breathe out. Now repeat." He placed the stethoscope over a few spots of my chest. "Could you cough twice for me?" I rolled my eyes and did. I hated when the cold metal thingy made contact with my skin and frowned until it was over. I felt a slosh in me. Ew, what was that, water?!

"Okay, we're just going to run a blood test and we'll be done for the day. Now give me your hand…" It felt weird when I offered my hand to him. It felt heavy. He pulled it onto his lap and told me to relax before he took out a syringe from a… packet? Okay, that makes sense. Hygiene and stuff.

I felt the needle prick my skin and slowly enter me… That sounds inappropriate. I watched as he slowly filled the syringe with my blood dully. Who would've thought that after going through this so many times you could actually get used to it? Wait, he's a doctor, doctors would be. Definitely.

"So how long have I been asleep?"

"A day and a half."

"Is that why I'm so tired? And thirsty?" And then my stomach joined in. "And starving?"

Kristoff chuckled, "Maybe. I'll tell the nurse to bring you some food." He pulled the syringe out and cleaned the spot before giving me a dinosaur plaster. Yes, Dinosaur, because he knows I love them. He's my family doctor, shush.

He patted my head again and set the bed back to its default setting. Before leaving the room, he said, "Try not to get out of bed before you get food… And don't you dare ask your brother bring chocolate in." He gave a glare. Or tried, before relaxing and smiling at me.

"You'll be here for another week or two, we'll be running a couple more tests just to make sure you're alright, and then you'll be free to go."

"Really?"

"Really."

Hans returned after Kristoff exchanged a couple of words with him outside. I could see from the window the relief in my brother's eyes and I couldn't help but be happy. For him and for me. That night we didn't lose me.

"Hey buddy," He greeted as he entered the room. "How's my favourite sister?" He leaned on the railings.

I snorted. And then flinched. Oh the woes of a heart transplant. "I'm your only sister, Hans."

He glanced away for a moment too long. He was guilty. Of course he was, he spent the first twenty-something years of his life doing nothing but study, did you think he wasn't aware he had been ignoring you?

"You know it's not like that…" And I do. After mom and dad died, they had little to no savings, someone had to work a decent enough income for all of us. I tried, but look where it got me.

"I'm sorry, Hans. I'm fine."

Hans grinned and then we stayed silent for a while, just embracing the fact that I was still alive. He was a man of few words anyway, so talking to him had always been so difficult. I watched as he made a few different facial expressions before finally giving up. A few minutes later he was about to say something when a nurse came knocking on the door. He entered with a plate of food and as she placed it on my table, he turned to Hans and greeted, "Hoo hoo, I'm sorry, dear, but visiting hours are over now and your sister needs to rest."

Rest? I literally just woke up. But she brought food so I let it go.

Hans ran his hand through my hair and smiled again. I suddenly noticed how tired he was. The eye bags just below his eyes were never so prominent and… had he lost weight? Had he been eating? Had he been sitting here the entire time? Waiting? For me to wake up?

Hans seemed to know what I was thinking and sighed, "Don't worry, kiddo, I'll be going home now. You rest up too, alright? I'll bring you chocolate." He joked. I honestly hope he wasn't.

After Hans finally left, I asked the nurse. "Excuse me, have you seen a blonde girl anywhere nearby?" The nurse glance down at me as she brought the bowl of… wait, soup?!

He shook her head and brought a spoon to my mouth asking me to open them. "You were lucky you slept more than a day, goodness me, or you would've to sleep through the night without food."

"Yeah, like this is much better." I took a mouthful and quickly swallowed it. Bland as usual.

"At least it's got taste, you know? Usually patients wake up earlier and are not yet able to take food from the mouth."

"So… more specifically, platinium blonde, my height, slightly taller… Business clothing probably, sure you haven't seen her around?"

The nurse shook her head disappointingly again. Was she avoiding Hans again? I don't get it. Could it be? Was she still mad at me?

"I'm not hungry anymore… can I turn in for the night?"

* * *

><p>"Are you sure you're okay?" Hans asked.<p>

One and a half week had passed since the surgery and I was finally allowed to leave the hospital.

"Okay? I'm better than okay, I'm going home, Hans!" I said as I excitedly tossed the medicine I was given into the bag by my legs. He stood by my side with balloons in his hands.

"About… you know…? Oh are you sure you want to keep those books?"

"Yeah, why not? And no, I don't know." I picked up the books by the table and handed it to him who dropped them in my bag.

"Well… because… you know, are you sure you want to remember this?" What was Hans talking about?

"Look, Hans. I know you haven't met Elsa yet, but she's not a bad person. Really. You'll love her. She's a research psychologist, for god's sake, you guys can talk science and human stuff together..." Or whatever science nerds talk about.

Hans stood there quietly and finished packing. He zipped the bag and turned to me. I couldn't tell what he was thinking, or feeling, at all. But then again, when could I ever? He took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a while.

"Elsa passed away." He bit his lips again and I could see his entire body was still tense.

The words echoed in the room. Silence filled the room. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't speak. Funny, I just had a heart surgery, shouldn't I be able to breathe perfectly fine? And then I coughed.

"You're joking, right Hans?" And then I laughed. "You haven't even met her and you hate her already?" So maybe the things I heard were true, medical doctors and psychologists do not get along.

Hans pursed his lips but didn't say anything. He walked over to me and pulled me into a hug. And then he whispered into my ear, "I'm sorry I haven't been there for you, but I will be from now on. Things'll be fine."

I didn't understand a word he was saying. Why was Hans suddenly saying all these? "I thought we've established that he wasn't a bad brother last week already? Hans, you're awesome. I mean, look at me, I'm trash. While you're out there working hard to save lives, earn money, I'm out there ruining them."

"No, no…" He whispered again. He finally let go of me and then added, "Just know that I'll be there when you need me okay? I'm sure Elsa's an amazing person." He forced a smile. I knew he was forcing it. He was definitely forcing it. His eyes were red and watery for god's sake. Hans, I don't understand.

* * *

><p>"No, you shouldn't have signed up for that!"<p>

"I don't see what's wrong!"

"You literally just signed a death contract!"

She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, god I miss that, "More like an after-death contract!"

"Elsa!" I stomped my foot and coughed. She hurried over to me and I pushed her hand away.

"I don't get it, why are you so mad?" She whispered. "I just want to help people, why don't you get it?"

I couldn't explain. I get it, I truly do. I know it wasn't rational to bad mad over things like this. It didn't even make sense in my head to me back then. Logically speaking, there was nothing to be mad about. But I couldn't help it, signing something like that… It was like… I don't know. It was like… like… her actually dying. I know she wasn't going to die anytime soon, but signing it felt like she was assuming it, or even sure of it. Signing it, to me, meant she was ready to die.

And I wasn't ready for it.

"I'll… gotta go. I'll see you tomorrow, we'll talk about this later, okay?"

"Okay."

Okay, two weeks should be more than enough for Elsa to be mad at me. Not just mad, more like… I don't know, pissed off to hell and back, does that even make sense? I mean, was it really so bad she couldn't visit me for two weeks? And not reply my texts or answer my calls? I know she's a busy woman, but a one word text would've sufficed.

… or was this the end of us?

No, no, no, it couldn't be. She wouldn't break up with me over a small fight like this, we've been together for three years. I slapped my face, twice, thrice, and shook it before hopping on the spot to loosen my muscles. I wasn't even preparing for a fight, what was I thinking? Just suck it up, Anna, and apologise.

I pulled up the carpet and picked up the spare key. She wouldn't leave her key under the carpet if she was still mad at me, would she? It was practically screaming, "Anna, come in!" I smiled to myself, so maybe she was just busy. I turned to Hans and gave him a wave to tell him I was fine and told him to go without me. I'm twenty-one, dammit, I could go home on my own. I'm a patient, not a child.

I opened the door and frowned at the sight. White, as usual. But at least no tiles like it was in the hospital. Clean, not even the least bit dusty.

"Elsa?" I called out. And then I heard ruffling sounds… and then barking.

Olaf and Marshmallow dashed out of one of the rooms and climbed onto me. My heart soared as they nearly coated my face with saliva. At least _they _weren't mad at me. But then again, maybe it was just the fact that they actually remember me. God, despite being huge and labelled dangerous, they sure are fluffy and adorable.

I walked around the house, the kitchen was empty, and so was her living room, and her bedroom, and her bathroom… And her study as well.

Oh right, it was a weekday, so maybe she was at work.

Two hours later, my access into the building was turned down by security, claiming Elsa no longer worked there.

…

"So how're you feeling, Anna?" Kristoff asked, scribbling down god knows what onto those files. Why do doctors bother anyway, nobody can read their handwriting… except maybe for them. I tried. Once. To find out what I was experiencing. Kristoff said it was a way of writing so that patients could only hear about their conditions from doctors themselves so they had total control over how the news was given. I call it bull, he just has horrible handwriting.

"Fine… I miss Elsa." You know the awesome thing about a family doctor like Kristoff? They're your family-everything.

We went through the usual temperature and heart beat checking. "Could you cough for me?" I haven't seen Elsa in two and a half weeks.

"Fever?" He's practically the family counsellor.

"No, I'm sad though."

"Flu? Why?" See? He doesn't just take care of my physical wellbeing, he takes care of my emotional wellbeing too.

"No. I miss Elsa."

Kristoff paused for a moment. "She's your girlfriend, it's natural that you miss her. Any shortness in breaths? What've you been up to?"

"Walking. I walk every day now. Aren't you proud of me?"

Kristoff smiled and nodded, "Very."

"Now on to my girlfriend again, do you think she's still mad at me?"

"No, I don't think she can be." He said with a sigh as he got up his seat. "Okay, we're going to try a bit more cardio today, Anna are you up for it?"

I nodded, "Of course I can. I'm determined to beat my record time."

"Beating your 2.4k time is easy as pie, Anna." He chortled and I pouted. That was plain mean.

"Hey, just because I haven't jogged in a while doesn't mean I can't beat my time, Kristoff."

"A while is an understatement, I've never seen or heard of you running, and last I saw you, you were panting just walking up to my office. And I live on the third floor."

Wait what?! "No! I _do_ run! At the park near the mall! With Tiana!"

He stopped laughing and walking and turned to me. "Who's Tiana?"

Good question. Who was Tiana? Now that I think about it I've never met a Tiana before… until now?

"Anna, is there something you're not telling me?" Oh, he caught on to my silence. Speak, Anna speak.

"I don't know, it just came to me."

"Can you remember when you went running with this Tiana? Okay, we're here, now get up. We'll start out slow, okay?"

I nodded as he turned the machine on and the "I… think so?"

"Could you tell me?" He leaned against the machine and asked, listening intently.

"Well… From what I remember, I was jogging at this park. This Tiana person ran really fast. Like zoom. She was always one round ahead of me, so all I remember is when I finished, she was always sitting by this wooden bench waiting for me with a bottle in her hand ready for me."

Kristoff rubbed his chin and didn't speak for a minute. "Is there something wrong with me?"

"Well…" He started, "Don't stop or slow down. You've got to keep up. Although confabulations aren't uncommon occurrences, although it is extremely rare, there is a certain phenomenon where patients of heart transplants gain the memories or personalities of their donors' past life."

"What?!"

"Don't stop!"

I tried to roll my eyes but was too tired to do that, when had mere jogging ever been so tough? Anna, shame on you. "Tell me what exactly did you mean by donors' past life?" I managed to say between my pants.

"Well… there are… cases where relatives of patients just like you…"

Can he talk any slower? "Oh my god, Kristoff! Hurry!"

"They return to hospitals reporting change in personality."

"What?!" I almost jumped off the machine. "Why didn't you warn me about this?!"

"But they're not common, almost a myth! And there aren't any legitimate explanations, only really weak theories suggesting it. I never expected it to actually be a thing, okay?!"

Okay. But let's be honest, Anna, would you rather die or live a life with a changed personality and someone else's memories… Yeah.

So my memories were now somewhat different, huh? What else had changed about me now then?

* * *

><p>"You know if anything happens, you're always welcome here, right?" I watched from behind Elsa as she wagged the key in front of my face. She bent down to hide it under her carpet.<p>

"And… how exactly is yet another house going to keep me safe from a couple of bulldozers with bats and guns?"

"Anna, I have two dogs. A Caucasian mountain dog and a Borzoi. Do you think—"

"People are willing to kill people when they're desperate, what makes you think they won't kill dogs?"

Elsa shrugged, "My dogs aren't afraid to bite them to death either."

Odd, why was I remember it in Elsa's perspective? But I doesn't think too much about it, eager to see Elsa again. As I paid the cashier and sat down by my usual seat in the corner, I quickly scanned the café for the pair of sapphire eyes I found myself mesmerised with the first time I sat there. Maybe it was an Asian who donated their heart to me. Recently I read on the net that westerners were more likely to see themselves in a first person perspective while easterners were more likely to see themselves in a third person perspective. Was that how it's like? Cool. I got Asian heart. Why am I not doing some hard core sport and training for the Olympics yet?

I stared at the key in my hand. Where are you, Elsa? Where have you been?

I don't get it, are you really that mad at me?

"Hot chocolate for one?" The barista called out from the bar. I walked over to get my drink. "Haven't seen you in a while, milady." He said with a wink. "Where's your gorgeous girlfriend?"

"W-wait, you recognise me?"

"Best dealer in town, doctor brother, everybody knows you, kid. Now you seem a little down, had a fight?" He asked, getting on with his next drink. Shit, _everybody_ knows?

"Just kidding, nobody knows. You guys are my regulars, of course I'd know. Go on, I can multi-task." He encouraged. I wasn't sure whether he was really joking, but I hoped he did. I wasn't too proud of what I did, but I intend to quit. It hadn't been easy, but with Elsa, I knew I could do it.

I leaned against the corner of the bar closest to him and took a sip of my hot chocolate. "I don't know, we fought three weeks ago and she hasn't answered my call, texts nor been home since then."

The barista raised an eyebrow. "Must've been some big fight."

"Not really, it was just me being petty. If she just gave me a day to think about things, or a night to sleep, I would've apologised in the morning. I swear I was planning to—" Shit.

"Wuzzat?"

My heart sucked itself in and my lungs went along with it. Jesus, I just had a heart transplant, what the fuck?

And then a throb. I wasn't sure if it was because it stopped, or rather I stopped feeling it, for a minute, but that beat hurt. It hurt like an actual drum was beating in my chest. It was like someone or something was trying to beat its way out of my chest. And it fucking hurt.

Hans' words repeated in my head like a broken recorder. "Elsa passed away."

She's gone. She was long gone. Elsa wasn't mad, Elsa was… no more.

All the memories of that morning flooded into my head. I remember it all now. I had been so busy in rehabilitation, seeing doctors, getting Hans off my back and trying to contact her I didn't even bother to stop for a moment to think. Stupid me, stupid. I remember it so clearly now. It was so clear I didn't want to see it.

I was playing the PSP Hans bought me. I was in that boring old hospital bed again. The stupid white railings and that boring white stinky blanket. I was telling him about Elsa. Telling him about my plans. I told him I was going to buy her a ring. I told him I was going to quit dealing in the streets. I told him I wanted a job and was asking him to help me. I wanted to start working as soon as I was healthy. I wanted to buy her a ring. With perfectly clean money. I remembered Hans had this proud smug look on his face. I knew he was happy, he was so proud of me, so proud of the fact that his sister was no longer drug dealing. And I was happy for him.

And then Kristoff came barging in. He sat down by my bed as he usually did, but he didn't look happy like he usually was. He didn't ask his regular stupid questions about how I was feeling, if my chest or my heart was hurting, or if he needed to get anything for his favourite patient.

His mouth moved, but at that point, I wasn't sure if I heard them. I was sure I did, I definitely did. If it wasn't for it, I wouldn't have…

"Elsa Arendelle just came in. She didn't make it."

I remember now. Those words echoed in my head. They bounced off the walls of my brain, and the pain was shot down to my heart. My stomach twisted into nothingness. I placed my cup on the counter and squatted on the ground. I never felt so hollow in my life.

Before I knew it, I was back at home in Hans' room.

I didn't know how long I sat there, unmoving, but I know it was for a pretty long time because I heard the gates clanging and the door clicking open and shut. I heard him ask "What's wrong?" moments later as he entered his room.

"Elsa's gone." I tried, no, more like struggled, to say with my fucked up choked voice.

I heard him sigh and sit beside me on the floor, leaning against his bed. He pulled my head into his shoulders and said, "It's okay to cry."

And I did.

I didn't just cry. No, I pounded his chest like a punching bag. Everything was crazy, nothing made sense. I felt like I had so much energy with me and nothing to do with it. And all I could do was beat my brother's chest.

He stroked my hair as I cried on him for god knows how long. He pulled me into a tighter hug and when I pushed him away, he just tried again anyway, harder and harder until I lost all my strength and gave in.

Elsa couldn't die, she was meant to live longer than me. While I did anything that could fuck up life, she took all sorts of safety precautions you could think of you'd think she had OCD. While I ate McDonalds for breakfast, lunch and dinner, Elsa ate her carbohydrates, proteins, vitamins, everything. While I was testing out new drugs from suppliers, Elsa was working out in gyms. She was the healthiest, most cautious person you could ever meet, how could she die?

I didn't say "I love you" like we usually did that day. I didn't hug her or kiss her goodbye before she went to her meeting, or a "Good luck" before she tried to persuade her employers for a deadline extension. "Okay," that was my last word to her. My last sentence was just one word, which meant jack shit, not even a proper goodbye.

After I calmed down, Hans decided to speak. He knew what I was thinking, he always did. I stopped hitting him then. I could feel the warmth from his chest. He was probably going to find bruises on him tomorrow. "Car accident, they said. Declared brain dead when she arrived. Her heart rate was beating… fine, before they brought her in so they couldn't give the exact time of death."

Her heart? Who the fuck cared about her heart? She's brain dead, that— Oh holy shit, no.

"No," I whispered. No, no, no, no, no, no.

With whatever strength I could muster, I sent them all to my shaking legs. I forced myself to stand up, almost falling back, I leaned against his cabinet. Hot tears ran down my cheeks again, my head felt like splitting but somehow it managed to process whatever Hans said… and implied. My legs could no longer hold me anymore and I fell to the floor. I hugged them so tightly and ignored Hans as he walked over.

"She would've wanted this, Anna, the both of you were compatible, and you were about to die!" He tried to pull me into his arms again but I pushed him away, or at least, tried.

"Get away from me! You could've just left me to—" I cut instantly cut off and my head was whipped to my right.

It stung. It burned. I felt my left cheek throb and suddenly the tears that fell on that side felt cold. Cold, just like Elsa always was.

"Don't…" He started. I immediately regretted the words that left my mouth. Anna, you need to stop your rambling… But Elsa loved it. Hans was panting. I don't even know why he was, I was the one crying my heart out here. He took a deep breath and turned my head so our eyes would meet. "Don't you ever say that."

It was wrong of me to say it, and I apologised.

"No, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that, I'm sorry." He replied. "I'm just grateful you're alive and you were so willing to throw your life away, just like that."

We hugged each other again for a long time, both crying. I know I shouldn't have said that, Hans knew perfectly well the feeling of loss of loved ones, grief, pain, life. I've never seen Hans shed a tear but he probably had. He had probably felt the emptiness I felt then, maybe even worse.

Hans was right, I should be grateful too. My girlfriend just saved my life. What I got mad at her for doing, was what gave me a second chance.

But it didn't mean I didn't mean it. I meant every word of it. It was selfish, I know. But without Elsa, life felt entirely meaningless and I couldn't shake off that feeling.

* * *

><p>I sat beside Kristoff, again for my fifth appointment, scrolling through jobs on my phone. I wasn't even reading them or checking if I was met the requirements. None of the words made sense to me, and I didn't even try. I just kept scrolling, and scrolling, and scrolling.<p>

My last hope was Hans, who wasn't home. What happened to being there for me? No, Anna, stop being an Ass, he _had_ been looking for jobs for you the past few weeks. But let's be real, who would want to hire an ex-drug addict? An ex-drug dealer?

"Hi, I'm Anna, I used to sell pharmaceutical products to your nephew by the street. Do you know me? Yeah… I quit that job, too much risks I could no longer take… Would you hire me?"

Yup. Without a pretty looking cv or certificate from graduating even college, Anna, how exactly were you expecting to find a job? I let my head slip off my hand and my forehead hit the wooden desk.

I really should've quit sooner. She would've helped me look for schools and jobs, prep me for interviews I have never been able to do well in.

"You need to talk about it." Kristoff spoke up after he was finally scribbling down the progress I've made. He turned his wheely chair to face me. Why can't patients have those things?

"Talk about what?" I asked without looking at him, still scrolling through my phone. It was stupid, really, trying to delay the inevitable.

Kristoff rolled his eyes and put down his pen. He leaned back on his tiny chair, causing a loud, dragged creak, and crossed his arms. He tilted his head and raised an eyebrow as he looked at me, "Don't avoid the issue, Anna."

"I don't want to talk about it." I propped my elbow on his table and placed my chin on it. Still avoiding eye contact, I turned my head to face the beautiful white wall I hated so much.

Kristoff rolled his eyes and returned to his work. He turned on his computer, which was a really rare thing, because whenever he started using the computer, it was like he was somewhere in the zone you couldn't get him out of unless you plugged out the computer. Which was rude, even I know that.

And then I surrendered. Fine, he was right, he always was. I threw my hands up and kept my phone back in my pocket.

"What is there to talk about? She's dead, Kristoff. She's dead. And I have her heart. It shouldn't even be in me. It should be back there in her chest, beating, living, and breathing. I should be the one that's dead, I shouldn't have lived, Elsa shouldn't have died, I just— she just—"I could feel my tears welling up, threatening to spill again.

Kristoff didn't say anything.

"Sometimes I get so scared of sleeping. When I sleep, I dream, yeah? Yeah. And when I dream, I don't know what I am dreaming. Who I am, what I'm doing, I feel like I'm losing myself. I feel like I don't know me anymore. One night I'm watching myself prance around in a garden, and I'm not sure if I'm Elsa or I'm me seeing myself in another perspective. And on other nights I'm watching myself, or Elsa, I don't even know anymore, I watch as our eyes close, our lips move to form words we tell each other before we sleep without making a sound. I watch as we whispered silently to each other the three words I wish I had said to her before she died. I watch as she rambles about the brain, and the nerves, and the black box thingy and all that. I watch as _I_ give her this love-struck smile, and I _know_ what I was thinking. I know I wished such a moment would never end."

"And then I wake up. I wake up, sweaty as hell, I wake up panting, I wake up crying. And when my headache comes, I drink a lot of water, and then I cry some more…"

"I don't want to sleep, I don't want to see these things. But when I get to tired, I do. I can't help it, and then I dream. And it happens all over again. I can't stop it, it just is."

"If Elsa was watching you right now, what do you think she'd say?"

"Kristoff, you know I don't believe in the afterlife."

"Humour me anyway."

"She'd say…" I thought hard about it, what _would_ Elsa say? "She'd be proud of herself. That even after she died, she was useful to someone. And not just anyone, but someone she loves. Loved. Whatever." Oh, I got where it was going… "And if she was still alive, I want to make her proud of me, I want to do what she always wanted me to do."

"Then do it."

* * *

><p>As the saying goes, actions speak louder than words.<p>

And damn hell, it did. God dammit, I haven't even enrolled and I'm already struggling. Why the hell was college enrolment so difficult? And it costs?! It's just fucking ridiculous. I'm paying to ask for permission to go to school. To get educated. To contribute to society. Fuck logic. Now I remember why I had been on the streets the past two years.

But by hook or by crook, I was determined to get it done.

Okay, no crook, I swear to… god. I was done with that life. I got Hans' help.

I don't know how long it had been, and I would rather not look at the calendar, but it was long enough before Hans ran out of patience and decided to drag me out of bed and stop moping. It was probably a month or two, I do recall a couple of trends getting viral over the internet and trends usually lasted days or weeks. We made it a habit to go on evening walks daily. Hans somehow managed to squeeze in an hour to take walks with her baby sister and listen to her daily cries and self-pity.

But Hans was right, I had been moping for too long, even if Kristoff and him said there was no problem with crying, there was a problem with just crying and not doing something about it. Elsa would've hated that. She would've twisted my ear and dragged me out of that corner and made me do something. Be productive.

But it wasn't easy. Just how long had it been since I actually read an actual textbook? Reading was painfully difficult and slow. I returned to the library. The one Elsa loved the most. She said it had the greatest variety of books, and had most of the ones she loved most. She loved to read the ones that made you cry at the end of the day, the ones that after reading, you felt like the world had suddenly changed, the ones that would blow your mind away.

The librarian by the shelf, oddly enough, recognised me. "Hey there… Anna, right?" Ok, that's freaky, she even knew my name. I didn't even sell anything remotely close by.

"Um… Yes?"

"Elsa spoke a lot about you." She said with the brightest grin. She raised her hand to shake, "Nice to finally meet you. I'm Belle."

I raised my hand to shake hers. I didn't know what to say. It hurt to speak. Just remembering that Elsa often came here was painful enough, but to meet someone she knew and to talk to her? I wasn't sure if I could. But that's part of moving on, right? Being able to talk. Or so Kristoff said. And so I tried.

"Elsa told me she loved this library. I decided to take up reading, I thought I'd start here."

The lady's face practically lit up and pulled me to the stairs nearby. "Oh, then I have just the books for you!" …What? How was she to know what I liked when even _I_ didn't know what I liked? "Elsa told me you're a fantasy-movie person, I'm guessing you'd like to read those for starters?"

I shook my head in disagreement. The past weeks, for the lack of better words, had been life-changing. It was weird, to say the least. It felt like I finally understood why Elsa fell asleep in the movies I loved and was always excited about hers'. "No, fantasy movies these days have lost its quality… They no longer make sense. I'm more into the… The fault in our stars kind of thing now, but that's a bad example."

Belle hummed and turned to me. "That's odd, Elsa said you hated those things."

"I did. But now I've grown to love them." I forced a smile.

"Speaking of Elsa, how is she? I haven't seen her in a while."

"She's… passed on. And before you say it, no, it's okay, I'm trying to get over it, so let's not go there." Shit, before I knew it, I was chickening out again.

Belle frowned and placed her hand on my shoulder, a gesture which I immediately understood. She then flipped that frown and pulled my hand again, "Well then, since you're no longer a fan of fantasy, let's try one of Elsa's favourites, shall we? I know she loves to delve in one of these shelves somewhere…" She stopped by this particular shelf with the most boring coloured cover books. Elsa… really had no taste, and I was liking it.

"If you need anything, just head over to the first floor and I'll be somewhere around." She whispered before she left and then I was on my own.

I looked at the shelves Belle said Elsa loved the most.

Elsa used to stand there. At this very spot, in this small space. She used to touch this books, skim through the synopsis behind and flip through them. She used to sit by this little corner reading them until her back would ache and I would find her in an actual sitting area on days I was sold out for the day. Without thinking, I grabbed the thinnest book and sat by a corner I imagined she loved and started reading.

I had the weirdest feeling that night. Although Elsa was gone, and although I was never superstitious, I dreamt that Elsa was sitting beside me in that corner, reading to me. She was smiling, and so was I. She teased me for my 'lack of depth', as she would always put it, and I would make fun of her seriousness. I couldn't help but feel that after so long, my heart felt a little less empty. I was happy.

And I hated this feeling.

* * *

><p>School started and miraculously, as Hans put it, I found myself attracted to statistics. I guess Elsa influenced a greater change on me than I expected. Me. Statistics. Math. Ridiculous. But it was true.<p>

Maybe it was a part of me that missed Elsa that made me start liking it, or maybe it was the life-changing experience itself that made me start appreciating things I never learned to appreciate when I was younger, the ignorant and naïve child. After all, with a genius of a family doctor, a surgeon of a brother, and a research psychologist of a girlfriend, you're bound to learn a thing or two about statistics. They talk about it all day. Or maybe it was the literal change of heart.

I didn't know, and I didn't care. I tried not to care.

Days passed by and I found myself learning more and more about myself, things that I remembered differently in the past. Sometimes it scared me when I couldn't tell what was what, which was which, who was who. I went through periods of times where I would feel so lost I would sit in my room for days and not leave the house, trying to figure everything out. And then I learned to distinguish certain memories of mine and Elsa, I learned to distinguish what I liked and what Elsa liked and why we liked them. Sometimes I learned to remain liking both, sometimes I stuck to one as our personalities had been quite the opposite of each other. Sometimes, for old times' sake, despite my blatant dislike for certain things, I would still do them.

I couldn't help it.

What scared me most was when I couldn't tell why I did them anymore.

I was working on an assignment due that day the first time it hit me. It was something so minute you normally wouldn't even notice it. It was due in a week's time and I wanted to finish it up so I could get on with the next one. Hans and I had become closer since then and we left our doors open in case anything happened, we would know we were there for each other.

He entered my room in the evening after work, I think. He sat down by my bed, but didn't say a word when I asked him what it was he needed. I felt his eyes on my back. I could hear the gears in his mind grinding. But I couldn't tell over what.

A few songs in my playlist after, he finally asked, "When did you listen to classical music?"

And I replied like it was the most ordinary thing in the world, "All the time?"

"No, all the time is dubstep, not classical." He lied down on my bed. "You thought classical was boring."

"Well that doesn't explain why I haven't downloaded or bought any and yet I still have them in here. An entire playlist of it, too."

"So where did you get them?"

That was when it hit me.

It hit me hard. Like the fall you feel at the end of a high. Nothing comes crashing down on you, you fall to the ground. Just when I thought I was fine, I could move on, I no longer miss her or her memories, she no longer held control over my life. Just when I thought it was finally my hands on the steering wheel.

"Elsa sent them to me."

I hated that I could still remember it as clear as day. The memory was like looking through a pair of prescribed glasses. We both remembered, it seemed. To Elsa, it was our third date and it was my turn to "share my world", as I put it. But to me, it was the day that marked our first month together.

I was sitting at the bottom of a flight of stairs outside the library that day surfing the net. I knew I stank like a skunk after meeting my clients all day so I didn't want to go in. I told Elsa I was waiting outside when she was done with her book and to take her time as the internet had news to entertain me.

I was bobbing my head and reading the news about some cannibal or something biting someone on the expressway before running off when I felt a gentle tap on my shoulder from behind.

"Mind if I join you?" She asked with a smile before sitting beside me.

"You'll block the path."

"Then scoot." She sat down anyway.

"I'm already taking as little space as I can, fat ass."

"My behind is not big, excuse you." I rolled my eyes at her dislike to use 'dirty words' as she put it.

"The stairs says otherwise."

We bantered for a while before returning to our stuff. She borrowed the book and brought it out just to read it with me. That was one of the things I loved about her. She hated to see me alone. When she said she would always be there for me, she did.

I think she finished her book, or got bored, or just wanted to annoy me, but she tapped my shoulder again and asked if she could listen to what I was listening to. I nodded and she took my right ear piece and fit inside hers.

It didn't even take two seconds before she wrenched it out of her ears. Scratch that, she basically placed it in, jumped, and then pulled it out. Not even a second.

She cringed when she turned to me, rubbing her ear, "How do you listen to this?"

I shrugged, "Like that?"

"It's so loud."

I lowered the volume from the settings of my laptop and told her to give it a shot again.

After twenty minutes, I remembered perfectly because it was when my favourite track ended, she pulled it out of both our ears and asked if I wanted to listen to what she enjoyed listening instead. I nodded and she handed me her iPod. I plugged it in and waited for iTunes to load.

When my computer completed loading, it showed various playlist with names I couldn't understand nor even read. But Elsa was all too familiar with it. She took over my mouse and clicked a playlist and hit the spacebar.

I pouted at the slow song and she giggled. She loved when I pouted, she thought it was adorable, it tempted her to poke it every single time.

"Send me your songs." I told her.

"If you don't like it, it's fine," she said. But it wasn't fine. Eventually, when we live together, I would have to get used to her songs, and her mine. It would've been a good time to start getting used to it.

Up till this day, I could never bring myself to like it. But I didn't hate it anymore. I learned to appreciate it.

"Why do you listen to this?" Hans asked, echoing the memories of me asking Elsa.

And I answered just as she did. I turned around and faced him. I smiled at him to know I was fine. I was over this.

"It's soothing."

* * *

><p>AN: Credits to exixiii/namenloses-schatten for this idea. I looked up as much things as I could and I know this ffic is ridiculously unrealistic, so.. meh. Nevertheless, if I made any mistakes, in the surgery itself, rehabilitation, diet (that was mentioned only once), and/or anything else, do let me know, I'll try my best to fix it. Also, I know the flashback parts can be a little messy, if it's too much, lemme know, I'll fix it. I just wanted to give it a shot at not using italics for flashbacks.


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